(2016-05-10) Life is Complicated
Life is Complicated
Summary: Mon hands the ice cream machine off to Sophia. Learns way more than she bargained for.
Date: 2016.05.10
Related: None

Monica drags the ice cream machine quite ways, given that it's running. Ultimately, she pulls it to the dive bar. She turns it off before heading inside. The icecream inside has stabilized at -40, far too cold to eat, so it's not going to thaw for a while anyway. "Hi."

Sophia's inside the make shift kitchen boiling….dandelion heads? Huh. The short woman looks exhausted, and her eyes are rimmed red. She sniffles once , wipes her face before turning and plastering a fake smile. "Hola Monica. Did you need anything?" She wipes her hands next and steps out of the kitchen to properly greet the other woman.

You say, "Are you ok? I um… came to give you something. Since you're kind of managing the non-milk dairy products around here."

Sophia frowns and waves a hand, "I am fine." She nods, although she's not certain she's actually managing anything, "Is it something that should be here, or at the club house?' She seems better to have soothing to focus on, and will gladly latch onto this conversation.

Monica ponders. "Well, probably more commonly served at the clubhouse, unless we get a restaurant going or something. It's an ice cream machine. And there's 5 gallons of vanilla chocolate-chip-cookie in it right now if you'd like to warm some up and have some.

Sophia's eyebrow raises, "Do you need the freezer?" Ice cream sounds heavenly, but she hesitates in nodding to have some. "We don't need ice cubes." Her lips are licked as she looks out the door to where the machine would be. "Is there enough power to run it and everything else?" Soph has no idea how those things work.

You say, "It's gas powered. Portable too." Mon looks at Sophia. "Let's get you some and figure out the rest. I'm kind of assuming it's for special occasions when we've got a good supply of sugar and milk and/or cream. I've been kind of planning an ice cream social, but… I suck at organizing social events."

Sophia smirks, but then gives in (Which is another odd thing for the woman) and agrees to have some. She moves to get some bowls and silverware from behind the bar. "Si….our milk supply concerns me. With some many children, and me making cheese…now ice cream…" It's a fair concern. Bowls and spoons are set out on the bar top.

The ice cream has had some time to warm, so it's more servable now. Mon dishes some up for Sophia and a little for herself. "I did rustle up another cow. She's skinny, pregnant, and mean, but hopefully with some regular feeding and associating with the rest of our herd she'll settle down by the time she drops the calf.

That's…not helping Soph feel better. She frowns and just focuses on something behind the bar. "Where do you want to keep it? Here or at the club house?" She fidgets and then asks, "I have some cheese, if you'd like some?"

Monica nods. "Sure… a little. Sophia… look, I'm not blind. Your eyes are all puffy and your cooking dandelion heads. Either you're desperately allergic to dandelions, or you're making wine and you're upset as hell. Will you please tell me what's wrong?"

Sophia turns to go get the cheese, but the Monica is asking the very thing she doesn't want to talk about. "I am making wine. It's not that difficult. I'm hoping it will be a good alternative to the hard liquire. The men all keep asking for beer, like I will magically be bale to produce it." She forces another smile, one that does not reach her eyes, "The other is…nothing. I have not felt well, but Eli says I am fine."

You say, "Not feeling well and fine… and twitchy about…" Mon blinks. "Oh. I think I get it. Yeah. Ice cream, definitely. You need it."

Sophia's eyes harden and she gives Monica pretty much a death glare. Her voice is hard when she asks, "How much milk does this require?" She's not looking for sympathy, or empathy or anything. She just doesn't want to think about it.

Monica flinches at the glare. "About a gallon per gallon. More if you want creamier ice cream, but you get skim milk back." Mon finds herself feeling suddenly awkward. She looks down at her bowl and eats the ice cream. "Talk to Piper," is all she adds before she turns away. Piper, yes, who seems to be raising everyone's children but… also Piper the herbalist. Choices to make, and they make Mon uncomfortable. She turns to go. "And… good luck. Ok?"

Monica flinches again, somewhat belatedly. Piper her friend. And Piper. Yes… Piper is complicated.

Sophia's eyes are on her bowl now, considering. Now she has to tell Roberto, damn it. Her spoon is set down with a loud smack into the bowl and she watches as Monica backtracks and tries to leave. If she understands the unspoken, she doesn't look it. No words come from the angry woman. What can she say?

Monica glances back at the spoon coming down. "Is it so bad as that? I mean yeah, it complicates things, but…" Mon thinks about Bob a moment. Bob… who drinks a bit more than Mon happens to think is healthy. Bob who's already a pretty messed up camper. She's startled again to find her eyes getting wet. There but for the grace of … well she's never slept with anyone and Piper gave her condoms, so there's that and that… but… still. "I'm gonna get back to the shop. Basically to run this thing, you mix up the ice cream, pour it in, flip this lever up to connect the beaters inside, and start the engine. Let it run for four hours or so, then flip the lever down and let it run and cool the ice cream for another four, minimum. That's all I know. A batch takes about one tank of gas, and don't get your fingers in the beater while it's running, or it will tear them clean off."

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